Honestly
by Idonquixote
Summary: AU. For the first time in his life, William T. Spears must woo Grell Sutcliffe. For the first time in his life, Grell falls for a woman. For the first time in her life, Madame Red is at the center of attention. For the first time in his life, Lau is worried. Honestly, it's a bit much to take. Will/Grell, Grell/M.Red, Lau/M.Red, Will/Ranmao, Lau/Ranmao
1. Chapter 1

***Gulps* My first attempt at a romance fanfic here. And it stars the shinigami. I've never written them as the main charas before, so please, reaper fans, tell me how I did. I've only used them as side characters up til now.**

**To use them as serious, main protagonists is a big step for me. I hope I don't disappoint! I was planning to upload this after I finish HTTYD but it was begging me.**

**Warnings: A few pairings aren't resolved in this chapter. They will next time.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroshitsuji.**

* * *

William T. Spears opened his eyes stiffly, unable to ignore the ringing of his phone. He knew that ringtone- it belonged to a certain co-worker, one Grell Sutcliffe. Checking the alarm by his bedside, the man groaned.

6:45 AM Sunday.

_Sunday, of course_. William sat up stiffly, squinting at his surroundings, and trying to quell an incoming migraine. He picked up the glasses by the lamp and set them on his face. That was better. He refused to pick up the phone.

Luckily, he was always prepared for a headache. Always. The glass of water and pill lay on the beside table. William gratefully took them both.

The phone stopped ringing. Finally.

William glared at the switchphone, remembering a certain conversation with the new employee, Ronald Knox. "Man, who still uses those?" Well, to be frank, William considered iphones and their apps a huge waste of time and money. That and the screen dirties too easily for his liking. Scanning greasy fingers over the screen over and over again? Then putting it to one's ear? Disgusting.

He especially hated it when his underlings played games on their phones when they were supposed to be working. His phone was now vibrating- _stop texting me, Sutcliffe!_

He left the bed unmade and headed toward the bathroom, the lack of decorations and ridiculously plain furniture surrounding him. He hated clutter. His home was the exact opposite of Grell Sutcliffe's.

William reached for the medicine cabinet, and opened a fresh tube of toothpaste: mint and white, as plain as he liked it.

Speaking of Grell, sometimes he had to wonder why he was even friends with that... man (?).

William had known him since high school. Sutcliffe used to be one of his "bullies" for lack of better word. Grell was the quarterback, the gymnastics captain, the varsity player, the honor roll athlete. The redhead had been the manliest boy William had ever known, and Grell was eager to prove it too.

And Spears had been the silent, messy haired, B-grade nerd. True, he hadn't been applying his best in the first years of high school, and true, he had been a rather moody teen.

Sutcliffe's taunts and torment seemed to disappear the day they got in a fight. One fight that William would rather wipe out of his memory. It had been in the cafeteria- it had been messy- blood had been shed- and they were both suspended for a week.

He didn't know about Sutcliffe's parents, but his own guardians didn't care too much.

And that was how he befriended Grell. Tragic.

William dipped a bit of mouthwash in his mouth and rinsed. After highschool, they had gone to the same college (regrettably), and Grell had changed. The redhead once told him that he never had a girlfriend because none of them were good enough for him. No one doubted Sutcliffe's masculinity though- he always had enough scandals and friends with benefits under the table.

Grell had grown his hair out in university and taken to the color red. After his father died, Grell had undergone even more drastic changes. He made more girl friends (not girlfriends, girl friends) than he usually did. He spoke louder, flaunted his body more. Hell, he started wearing makeup.

And there was that day Grell dragged him to a gay bar. Because they were supposedly close friends- no, he was just using him to make another man jealous.

After college, Sutcliffe told him over coffee that he wanted to be a woman. William had snorted, waving it off as a joke.

It was not a joke.

William left the bathroom, drying his body with a white towel. His suit hung on the door, ironed and ready. There was no work that day- grumbling, he went to the drawers instead. He didn't have many leisure clothes.

Grell could pass for a woman now. He was even saving money for a full operation. And he insisted on flirting with William 24/7. That was not an exagerration.

William flattened the collar of his polo shirt and sighed. He could either leave the apartment for coffee or stay and skip breakfast. He picked up the cell phone and clicked it open.

**"William, playing hard to get are you?"** it read.

**"Will, let's go out today."**

**"Will, there's this nice-"**

**"Will, meet me at the mall."**

**"Will, come on!"**

**"Willy, willy-"**

**"Please, will, please, please, please-"**

He glared at the messages and texted back. **"Going to Starbucks, the one on 91 Avenue. Come if you want, I don't care. Honestly, stop bothering me."**

He flicked the thing shut, stuffed it in his pocket and left the room.

* * *

William sighed, Grell grinning from across the small round table. He stirred his coffee- plain and dark, he didn't like cream or sugar.

"Will, want to come shopping with me?"

"No."

"Come on, please." The redhead batted his eyelashes. William glared, pushing his glasses up. "No means no. Why don't you get Knox to go with you?"

Grell scoffed. "That boy? Please, he'd be knocking up some girl before I even finish picking out a dress."

"No means no."

Grell leaned forward, uncomfortably close. "William," he purred, "don't you have a market survey to do today?"

_He remembered!_ William mentally moaned. Without saying a word, he picked up his coffee and left the table. Grell was behind him in a second, laughing gleefully (or evilly- it was hard to tell). "I'll drive!"

* * *

William was off examining garden tools. And Grell was left alone, picking out dresses from the sales rack. His size was hard to find. Damn it. Some women were on the other side of the rack, none of them as pretty as himself of course.

He wondered if he should buy a bikini next. William would be so surprised. He grinned to himself.

And that was when he saw it- the beautiful redcoat, the last one in stock. 75% off. He raced over to it, fingers poised to yank it off the rack when- another hand closed over his.

The woman stared at him, astonished, her short red hair flowing with the momentum.

"Excuse me, this is mine," he threatened. She raised an eyebrow at his voice.

"Well, ma'am, I believe I saw this one first."

Ma'am? How dare she! "That's _miss_ to you."

"I'm warning you. I am in a very bad mood."

"This is how much I care." He pulled the coat towards his chest, and she crashed into him, breasts pushing into his flat chest.

"You're a man!" she snapped. "No, I'm not."

The woman pushed herself off him. She pointed at his shoulders. "I am a doctor. Those broad shoulders, the chest muscle, the hips- this is the figure of a male, you got that?"

"I don't see a PhD on you!"

The argument had attracted the attention of several customers, and soon the store manager was marching toward them.

"Angelina, Grell!"

Nina Hopkins adjusted her nametag and took the moment to tap her foot impatiently at the duo. Grell cleared his throat. "I'm your best customer, Nina! She- I don't even know what she is!"

"I'm your best customer! And that should be my line, you... _you_!"

Nina snatched the coat from his hands. "Last one in stock. I usually let customers fight it out, but I don't think that'll work with you two. So either I hold it for someone else entirely-"

"NO!" they both yelled.

"Or you share it. Buy it together, wear it together." She eyed them skeptically.

And almost in unison, "fine."

* * *

William stepped into the elevator- Grell could take the escalators, he didn't really care. It was a "SALES" day- that meant Sutcliffe would be fighting some poor woman for whatever article of clothing that caught his eye.

Ding.

The second floor doors slid open and someone familiar stepped in. William felt a frown creep across his face. Sebastian Michaelis stared back, startled for a moment, before adjusting his tie and taking his place by the doors' sides.

"Fine day, isn't it, Mr. Spears?"

"Wonderful. Another face that I loathe."

"The feeling's mutual."

"What's a butler doing here?" William asked sharply.

"The young master's aunt is shopping here. And she requires transportation."

"I wouldn't want to be in the same car with the likes of you."

Michaelis sighed. "You hold grudges quite well, Mr. Spears."

The elevator stopped again. Sebastian gestured for William to leave first. The other man shot him a glare. "Your young master still hasn't apologized for that court case. Just so you know, butler- I'll be suing you again for that."

He stepped out. There were several things he could let slide, but this incident he could not- the boy had been kidnapped and held for ransom at none other than the warehouse in his charge. And the butler just _had_ to get in some convoluted fight that destroyed all the cargo.

That was how he met Ciel Phantomhive and Sebastian Michaelis.

He lost the court case. The financial and timely loss of the incident had plagued him every day since.

* * *

Angelina Durless left the mall, holding the red coat to her chest as she strided across the parking lot. The deal had been made- she would get the coat for two days. Then he would for two days. Then so on and so on.

His address and number were tucked safely in her pocket. She didn't want to give him her address (he reminded her of a serial killer)- no, he had to settle with a cell number.

"Would you like me to take that for you, Madame Red?" Sebastian asked, already juggling a total of ten bags.

"No need, Sebastian. I'll hold this myself."

He loaded the bags into the car and shut the trunk. Her mind was elsewhere- it had already been four years, more or less. But the loss was still heavy.

Sebastian plugged in the keys and started the engine. Madame Red shut the door. "Tell me, is he happy?"

"The young master," the butler chuckled, "rarely, but he's pleased to see you."

Is he happy? Ciel. Sometimes she wondered if that was who she was really asking about. Was he happy? Vincent.

He leaned forward and she groped a clothed thigh. The butler stiffened and Madame Red smirked- well, there were some other distractions around.

* * *

On Monday, Grell couldn't help but feel cheated. He showed up in his Victorian-esque suit, made tabs on all the tools, and prepared to be half salesman half assistant supervisor. The perks were that he could show up later than usual and wear whatever he wanted.

William was the supervisor. And he never took advantage of his perks.

Grell wondered about the redcoat, imagining that woman doing horrible things to it. What was her name? Dur- Angelina something. She was annoying.

Feisty. Red. Red hair. Red clothes. Curvy. Large breasts. He was a bit jealous. A bit... a bit... intrigued.

He had never been intrigued by a woman before. But so much red- they must have a lot in common. Pursing his lips, he took out his phone. Well, a quick text couldn't hurt.

It wasn't like he was asking her out or anything. He shuddered at that. Ladies are asked out, not the other way around. That would imply he wanted to play the part of the man.

He smirked. Texting William couldn't hurt either. Ah, that man was drop-dead sexy. He felt normal again.

* * *

**"Grocery shopping together? Thursday?"** William glared at the text. His computer currently had 3 programs and 8 tabs open. He was beyond busy making calls, editing reports, and evaluating employees. Not to mention placing orders and negotiations.

He didn't want to reply.

**"1093 Lovers St. Meet me with the coat. Tonight, 11 PM."** Madame Red stared at the text. Hmm. He really was desperate for that coat. Maybe when she was done with Elizabeth's tea party, she'd go. And take pepperspray, just in case.

The blonde giggled as Ciel held up his cup for more tea. Madame Red put the phone aside and returned to the game.

* * *

"Where ya going, boss?" Ronald asked, stretching his arms, pockets bursting with numbers from female clients. The young man grinned.

"A bar," Grell replied, yawning. 9:00 PM. It was time for them to close shop. William usually stayed til 2 in the morning.

"Meeting men?"

"Hot men, thank you very much. And no," he hesitated. "I'm meeting a woman."

Grell turned around, and Ronald almost crashed with the floor.

* * *

Druitt's Late Night Bar was open all night and well into the morning. It was a rich place- for clubbers with too much money to spend. Madame Red had a drink too many.

Rachel was stripping. And Ciel was making out with Sebastian. Vincent had a twin. Vincent was the bartender. Barnett was a cup. Her baby was on the ceiling.

She was a heavy drinker, she admitted that much.

These hallucinations were normal. The pepperspray, knife was heavy in her hand. Knife- she should put it away, someone could get hurt. That was funny. She laughed.

"What's so funny?"

She blinked.

Grell eyed the woman suspiciously, taking a seat beside her and ordering a glass of scotch. The redcoat was on her person. Even her cheeks were flushed red. So much red.

"You're drunk, aren't you, Angelina?"

His voice was nice. Deep, flamboyant. Nothing like Vincent's. Nothing like her husband's. Oh! The knife. What if he was here to kill her? He grinned, shark-like teeth menacing in the dim light.

"Bad girl! Bad bad girl!"

He leaned forward, stroking her hair. "I usually prefer bad boys, but you- you're a special one, Angelina. Let's be friends."

"Friends," she said. Friends, Friends. Like a sister. Rachel's best friend. Vincent's best friend.

"No!" He jumped, startled. What the- He was only trying to pry the coat off her- she seemed too drunk to notice- then

Her lips smacked into his, their crimson lipstick smearing one another's mouths. He shook her off. That was- that was-

She did it again.

No. No. No! No! No! No- it wasn't that bad. It was thrilling, the kind of thrill he hadn't received in a very long time.

* * *

"Awake?"

Madame Red lifted her head off the bar counter, feeling dizzy. The strange man was beside her, smirking, his red-framed glasses a bit disheveled. "You..."

"Grell Sutcliffe."

She groaned. "What happened-"

He kissed the air and giggled. Oh my- . Her head fell. His breath was right next to hers. "Don't worry, Angelina- it didn't go far. Besides, you're not my type. I like men, you know." _What a surprise_.

"Madame Red." "Huh?" "You may call me Madame Red."

He draped the coat around his shoulders. "Alright then, Madame Red."

"Ta ta!" And he was gone, or so she assumed. She banged her head again. The kiss, ugh. It hadn't been so bad in her dream- with Vincent, it had been... nice, actually.

* * *

William hugged his groceries on the way home, Grell chattering beside him. As always, he ignored the other's comments. They rounded a sidewalk, the upperpart of the city.

"You know, Will, you could afford to live here you know. Why don't you?"

"Waste of money."

"Pffft. What do you have to spend on?"

"Taxes, retirement, groceries, insurance, honestly, need I go on?"

"Sebby darling!" William turned around. Grell was racing toward Michaelis- he almost forgot, this was the Phantomhive Residence. Sebastian took a step back, a little brunette hanging on his back, his master tugging at his hand, and a blond boy pulling at his tailcoat.

"Sebastian, play with us!" "Sebastian, hurry up!" "Sebastian, higher!" All giggles and childish impatience.

"Hello... Grell," he spat.

"I know you're pleased to see me, Sebby, my darling neighbor. How about a kiss, eh?"

"No. I'm very busy, Grell. Go bother your lover."

"I'm not his lover!" William snapped, walking towards the group. Embarrassment sunk in. Michaelis never stated that _he_ was said lover. Too late.

"Aw, Will- so cold!"

He tugged at Grell and dragged him away. "Go back to being your master's toy!"

"This is a very esteemed job!" the butler called.

* * *

Madame Red passed the infant store sadly. Some things she would never have. Cradles and rattles and frames she would never put up. She sighed.

Her phone rang. Without looking, she picked it up- "Hello."

"Madame Red."

Grell Sutcliffe. "What do you want?"

"It's been two days. Want your coat back?"

She blinked- she'd completely forgotten about that (stupid!). The whole point of her extended vacation was to- she didn't want to think about it. "I... yes, I do!"

"Meet me at the Royal Cafe- texted you the address."

"Uh... thanks?"

"You don't have to come, you know. I could just keep the coat to myself forever and ever and-"

"I'm coming!" She ended the call and let out a loose laugh.

* * *

Blissful silence. William took his nap on the couch, the clock ticking away. Sutcliffe hadn't texted him all day. It was heavenly.

The phone rang. The ringtone was a bit rarer, but annoying nonetheless.

"Hello."

"Bossman! You'll never believe this!"

"What?"

"Grell's dating a girl!"

He choked on his reply. Those words didn't sound right. Especially not from Ronald Knox's mouth. "WHAT?"

"Seriously!"

"He has lots of female friends, Knox."

"Come on, I know how a guy looks at a girl he likes and a girl he likes a lot. That's how he's looking at her right now."

"Why are you telling me?"

"I was gonna call Eric, but touched your number by mistake. Doesn't matter- we're pretty close, right?"

"So?"

"I'm at the Royal Cafe. Wanna come, boss?"

"No."

"Wait, wait- he's trying to kiss her!"

He hung up.

* * *

William hid behind the newspaper with Ronald. This was ridiculous- why was he even doing this? Grell was currently saying something in the woman's ear, in that over-bearingly seductive way of his.

She smiled tauntingly. Said something.

And their lips touched.

He had enough. William got out of the chair and marched out of the cafe. This was for lack of better word, retarded. He doubted Grell even saw him leave.

* * *

"Like that?" she asked.

"I don't know. Recreating a kiss with someone in your dream who isn't really that person is a bit odd."

She scoffed. "Well, you didn't mind."

He put a finger on her forehead. "Let me tell you one thing, Madame Red. I am an amazing kisser."

"For guys or gals?"

"Haha, very funny." He grinned again, tilting her upwards. "I'd like to say both."

* * *

No calls. No texts. Sunday. William woke up and rolled over in bed. He planned to sleep in.

No. He was worried. Maybe Sutcliffe was- nah. He didn't care about Grell's wellbeing- it would just be a pain to find someone to replace his position.

He shut his eyes.

The phone lay dormant.

Damn it. William snatched the phone and brought it within 2 milimeters of his eyes. He squinted and dialed.

* * *

Grell lay cocooned in the velvet covers, wondering about what to do. Call William? Text him? Well, the man never replied anyway. Madame Red?

Madame Red. An odd woman indeed. He'd never met anyone quite like her.

And he still knew nothing about her, other than that her favorite color was red. Might as well go shopping together. He dialed.

William's call was promptly ignored.

* * *

A sassy gay friend. Madame Red resisted the urge to snort- that was exactly what Grell was to her at this point. He was even more feminine than her, if that was even possible.

And yet there was something in the way he talked to her- almost as if he was flirting.

"I thought you liked men," she teased.

"This suits you quite well." He threw a scarlet bandana around her neck. "Trust me, I do."

She was about to pry the thing off and check the pricetag (he had good taste, she gave him that) when he abruptly pulled her towards him. Golden green eyes stared at her.

Stared hard.

"I don't like women, Madame Red." Their noses touched. "I really don't." _But I think I kind of like you._

* * *

William left the apartment. Three straight sundays of sleep without annoying calls or texts. Maybe he should check his email- everything not work-related he put in the junk section.

What to do? There had to be something he needed to do. Groceries? Done. Doctor's? No need. Pills? Enough. Toilet paper? More than enough. Coffee?

"Morning William!" a lightly accented voice called.

Eyes shut, Lau waved at the man. William didn't return his neighbor's gesture. "Hello Lau."

"Going to work?"

"We're off today."

Lau fell in stride beside him. "Can't say the same for me." The same carefree smile. "Got a date today?"

William snorted. "I do not waste time on dates."

"Really? What about that red-haired woman?"

"That's a man. And he is not and never will be my date."

* * *

Madame Red wandered the streets. "You shouldn't stay out in the city too late at night, madame," Sebastian had advised. She laughed aloud. "I'm a grown woman," she had replied.

_I'm a grown woman. I'm a doctor_.

"I'm a mother." She rounded a fire hydrant, laughed at the sky. A drink too many, bumped into everyone. Grell had the red coat. She stopped, stared.

It was a sin to take one's own life. It would be downright immoral to leave her nephew behind. But he had others, didn't he? His servants, his father's side? She hiccuped.

The blurry lights of passing cars flashed by her. Flash. Flash. Flash. Two more days, then the coat was hers.

"I lived in red," she said. For you Vincent. For you. "I'll die in red." She would drown in red- wait until all the goodbyes were said- then she'd leave- find her husband again, her child, her family, _him_.

She staggered forward; the only one who knew about her drinking habits was Grell Sutcliffe. _Ah, Grell. I wish we could have known each other longer. _

She stumbled; the doors lay open- the doors to the Phantomhive estate, right, right? She pushed. The sign stared back: **Little Peking: Chinese Cuisine.**

Someone walked past her, shoving her aside. Half the lights were switched off, the chairs lying upside down on the tables. A young man ushered her out- she wouldn't budge.

"We're closed," he said, accent heavy.

"No, it's fine, our last customer," someone else said. He said something she couldn't understand. The man leaning on the table, slits for eyes and ruffled short hair. "I'll make her one last dish."

Grumbling in his language, the waiter set her at a table. She stared at the menu, pointing absently at things she didn't even bother to look at. "Do you have cash on you?" the chef asked, blunt and yet still so without a care. She was jealous.

"Credit."

"We're a little short on stock. How about that- chow mien?" "Fine."

Chow mien? What was she doing? She wasn't even hungry. Her phone buzzed- she switched it off.

* * *

Grell turned off the T.V. Soap operas these days- horrible, he was far better looking than those children who dared call themselves actresses. Amateurs. It was close to 1 AM.

He had a report to do for William. That could wait- there were far more things on his mind at the moment. Why did he have the urge to see Angelina Durless so badly? Why did he want to find out so much about her?

He hadn't been this confused since high school, when hormones kicked in and life had been one large lie. If only his father could see him now- oh, old man Sutcliffe would certainly kill him- her. There used to be a point of time when he would give anything to feel like a man, to feel like his classmates, "normal." When he'd cry himself to sleep, ponder suicide, all sorts of strange alternatives to get away from what the world thought.

He let himself go, let himself go hard after his father died- motor accident. He liked himself now, liked how he felt- now he would give anything to be a woman, not just feel.

Enough money for the operation. But did he really want to go through with it? Was it neccesary?

_Not like I chose to be this way_. He glared at the ceiling. His fantasy used to be: becoming a full-on female and marry William, or at least someone like him, (ie Sebby). And now that woman was bungling all his plans. Made him want to play the part of groom.

Groom.

He shouted in frustration.

* * *

Lau took the woman's hand in his own and maneuvered her fingers over the sticks. "You use them like this," he said.

"Oh." Clumsily, she stuffed a wad of noodles in her mouth.

"It's a bit late out here, you know."

"Mm."

He put his arms behind his head. "Ah, the city's not a nice place for people at night. Wouldn't it be nice if life was like that bowl of mien?"

She raise a brow at him. "Like a bowl of mien?"

"If we were all just noodles, mixing, mixing in a bowl." He chuckled. "Without a care in the world."

She was silent. "Yes, that'd be quite nice."

"Of course, in a bowl of noodles, we'd all get eaten and torn and digested," he trailed on. She glared at him. "You can be quiet now."

"Ah, sorry- but it does make a nice metaphor, does it not?"

"Pfft."

* * *

"William, I need you now!" Grell's voice shouted.

Sighing, William flipped the phone shut and shoved it in his pocket. Apparently Sutcliffe had some sort of apocalyptic dilemma. He wondered what- deciding what to wear? Or did he gain an ounce of weight?

* * *

Lau flipped the sign of his restaurant- OPEN. The night before had been quite special; that woman, she was fun to talk to. Then again, everyone was fun to talk to when they didn't know what to talk about.

The door swung open. And in stepped William T. Spears, his red-haired friend wailing by his side.

"Get us a table, Lau. Immediately." Glasses up his nose.

"Out on a date, William?"

"_Now_."

He called for the waiter and pointed at the duo. Once the table was set, chopsticks present and forks ready, he slid the menus at them. He didn't personally serve customers, nope- but neighbors were neighbors, no?

"And what would our lovers like today?"

"We're not lovers," William shot, picking up a menu.

"It's not right, Will!" Grell screamed, "it's not right! It's not right!"

At least there were no other patrons to witness the scene. William took comfort in that. "Aren't you going to ask me what, Will?"

"No."

"It's not right! I'm a woman, Will!"

"I told you so," Lau piped. William sent a death glare in his direction.

"I think you've made that clear, Sutcliffe."

"No! No! Not in this way- I'm feeling, I'm feeling." A whimper. A whisper. "Turned on by a woman."

William's brow twitched. That was the big problem? "So what."

"I think I'm in love with her, Will!"

The menu's binding snapped a bit in William's grip. This was ridiculous! Sutcliffe was ridiculous.

"And this is a problem how?"

"She makes me want to be a man." More sobs and annoying shouts.

"My, my, what a crisis," Lau remarked. Another death glare.

"Peking duck. The large plate- that's all we'll have." William handed him the menu, "and maybe more napkins."

Grell blew his nose on the tablecloth. Loudly. "Make that a lot of napkins."

* * *

William typed the report in the dark, glaring at his laptop. Percentages, marketing opportunities, consumer satisfaction, Grell Sutcliffe. The hell! He backspaced.

"Damn you Sutcliffe," he hissed. Of all the annoying things, his colleague just had to worm his way into his subconscience.

_In love with a woman_. Good. Then Sutcliffe would stop bothering him. Give him some peace once in a while.

He took another pill. Damn headache. Ba-dump.

"Honestly, now I have heart problems because of you." He cursed. Ba-dump.

His heart was beating too fast for comfort. Too loud for comfort. Not because he was ner- wait. Nervous. Anxiety. For what?

* * *

"It'd be wonderful if you come to that party, Grell," Madame Red said into the phone.

"Will there be lots of handsome men?"

"Well, I'm sure someone will show up." She smirked.

"And am I going as your... date?" _Did he just hesitate?_ She raised a brow. "Do you want to?"

"I wouldn't mind, Madame Red. In fact..."

Was he trying to purr? She grit her teeth- there it was again, Grell and his/her oddness- making her want to melt or turn away in disgust. "I very much want to be your date."

"..."

"Madame Red?"

"..."

"I'll make it romantic. Carry you in _my_ arms. I'll be your Prince Charming, how about that?"

_I thought you liked men!_ A blush crept across her cheeks. Why the hell was she blushing over another "woman"? She might as well indulge him. "Pick you up at three, Friday," she said.

She slid her finger across the screen. Ended the call. A sigh.

* * *

He loved her. Grell was never one to be in a slump for long. There, he said it, he told her. The first woman he ever attempted to chase. Angelina Durless, and he would make her his.

He'd be Prince Charming. He'd be the one making the first move, the one carrying her, the man he'd always wanted for himself.

Grell wiped off his lipstick and applied chapstick in its place. He removed the earrings and dabbed off his makeup. This didn't feel right. No, this did feel right. No, it didn't.

He took the brush, put it back. He picked up the _comb_ and raked the scarlet locks back, tying it up in one long trailing ponytail.

He examined himself in the mirror. _My, my, aren't you a sexy hunk?_

* * *

Ronald made an audible "AH" when Grell waved at him. "Boss," he choked, "is that you?"

"You're looking at _him_." The redhead spun around on his... dressing shoes (no high heels!), and adjusted his tie. "I have to look my best for the lady, you know?" A razor grin.

Ronald choked again. "It's not April fool's is it?"

"Will!" Grell waved at the supervisor. No winks. Just a wave between friends.

William's jaw slackened slightly. "G- Grell Sutcliffe."

"This is the new me, handsome, aren't I?"

And he walked off, no doubt to surprise some young woman who had never laid eyes on Mister Sutcliffe before.

"Hey, bossman."

William stared after him.

"Bossman."

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Damn anxiety. Damn Sutcliffe for catching him offguard.

"Bossman, yo!"

"What, Knox!"

"Just wanted to make sure I wasn't seeing things."

* * *

Lau flipped the sign and locked the doors. He pressed the metallic sheet- let it come down, he didn't want to deal with a robbery. That'd be bad! He turned around, just in time to see the red-haired woman fall forward-

-into his arms.

"Ma'am?"

She hiccuped and stared up at him with swollen eyes. "Didn't I tell you it wasn't safe to be out so late?"

"Nothing's working out for me," she huffed. He could see the fresh tears forming.

"Ma'am?"

"This isn't very safe. I mean, I'm a stranger- I could just rape you here and bury your body in the dumpster and-"

"You were right."

"Not that I was ever raped in the city, not that I'm implying anythin- huh?"

"Noodles get chopped and broken. We're all," she sighed, "noodles, eh?"

"..." He hoisted the bag on his shoulder, the woman having dozed off on his arm. _Okay. What to do?_

Cursing lightly in mandarin, he lifted the woman up and walked on. Hopefully this wouldn't end up like that movie he saw the other week, the one where the sleeping woman turned out to be a very violent killer. At least he only saw it on T.V.

* * *

Madame Red woke up with a screaming headache on a strange couch. This apartment- no, she'd never been in this place. _What happened?_ She groaned.

Where the hell was she? She sat up and eyed the red trusses on the wall- the Chinese restaurant? Some of the decorations looked familiar. Then where was the table.

She heard a toilet flush. Her vision cleared slightly. Desperately feeling for her iphone, Madame Red pulled it out of her stiff coat. Sleeping in her coat was something she didn't hope to do again. At least her organs were intact.

10 messages, all from Ciel Phantomhive. Ah, her darling nephew was worried.

"Awake?"

The Chinese man stepped into the light. She recognized him. "Where am I?"

"My home."

"Stay back. I'm warning you."

He shrugged. "Okay."

"What am I doing here!"

"You fainted... on me, and uh, I couldn't find a hotel for you- and I didn't really want to touch your things or your clothes. There are lots of germs in this world! So... here we are."

He smiled. She frowned- well, it wasn't the worst of all the stupid things she'd been doing over the course of her stay. Or thinking about doing.

"Say, would you indulge me in a favor, mister..."

"Lau. Just call me Lau, not Lao."

"Fine, Lau, where the hell are we?"

"My home?"

"Address, please. Some people need to pick me up." Some people being her nephew's butler and/or his trio of sidekicks.

"Oh. Uh, let me remember..."

* * *

William sat up in bed. He groaned- that happened too fast. No messages. No texts. No calls.

He didn't feel relieved. On the contrary, he was a bit annoyed. And it was affecting his work pattern. Gritting his teeth, he picked up his cell (fully charged) and dialed Sutcliffe's number. He'd give him a piece of his mind.

"Hello?"

"Grell!"

"Oh, hi Will! Wait- gimme a sec- Madame Red, might I add that your figure is dashing!"

"Grell!"

"Wait a minute. Hmm, that doesn't suit you. Oh, pish posh! We'll have lunch later."

He ended the call. Damn Sutcliffe!

* * *

"Hey Bossman, What's up?"

"Sit down!"

"Right!"

Ronald sat in the chair opposite William. The other eyed him intensely, hands folded on the table.

"I believe our work pattern is being severely disrupted. According to the survey and personal experience, this all lies in Sutcliffe's problems."

"What survey?"

"Quiet!"

"Right."

"He's been acting oddly. And I think it would be best if we told him to leave his personal issues at home and come to work properly."

"Not really. He's actually more proper now."

William pushed up his glasses and glowered. Ronald shut his mouth.

"It's gone too far. Sutcliffe has been ignoring my calls and messages- as his superior, this is horrible conduct. Now, since you work with him the most often, has he been slacking in duties lately? Would it be best to fire him?"

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" Ronald laughed, trying to stop from doubling over.

"Show some respect, honestly!" "Is this about the lady?"

Ba-dump. William's finger froze in mid-air.

"I think you're jealous, bossman."

"Jealous of Sutcliffe? Why in heaven's name?"

"Well, we are your only friends (acquantainces!), okay, acquantainces, and he's moving on and you're not."

"Preposterous!"

"I don't think it's Grell you're jealous of."

Ba-dump. The young man grinned.

* * *

**I'm just going to end this here. Originally wanted this to be a one-shot, but it's getting too long. It'll be a two-shot. So please tell me how I did!**

**And I hope you enjoyed reading, and that the length doesn't annoy you.**

**Ranmao shows up next chapter. And there's a surprise pairing at the end. Also, don't worry, Grell won't stay "OOC" for long.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Whoa, it's been so long. I'm sorry. But it's really long, so that might make up for it? Forgive me. Sorry for any OOC-ness that might occur. I tried my best to keep everyone IC.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroshitsuji**

* * *

William felt stupid. In fact, he felt downright braindamaged. That was the only logical explanation for what he was doing. _At least no one's around to see_. Gritting his teeth, the man approached the frontsteps of the duplex, eyes darting back and forth to make sure he wasn't being watched.

He placed the bouquet of roses there. **To: Grell Sutcliffe From: Anonymous**. Sutcliffe loved romantic things, didn't he? William felt a bout of self-consiousness. He rarely watched romances. The last time he had dated anyone was well over five years ago, and he had found it annoying beyond belief.

Besides, this was just an experiment. He shoved his hands in his coat pockets and walked away, quicker than he intended; this was just a test, just a test to see if Grell would stop this strangeness. There was no other reason beyond that.

* * *

Madame Red laughed, twirling the glass of whisky in her hands. How had her plans gone so awry? There were a number of ways to kill oneself, and she knew each one. _So what are you so frightened of?_

She leaned back in the tub, legs crossing over one another in the foam. Grell certainly liked her. Her boyfriend (she scoffed at the word) had been perfect to her- doting, handsome, romantic. But something was off; it was an act. She had an inkling it was because she was doing the same thing.

The iphone vibrated beside her. Madame Red gulped down the drink before setting the glass down and taking the call.

"Grell, you're starting to get overbearing."

"Please. You can't live without me, Madame Red."

"Oh really?"

"Really," he purred. Damn that purr. And damn her for liking it.

"Really. What do you want now?"

"I just wanted to hear your delightful voice. That's all."

"We can talk tomorrow."

"Answer me- are we steady yet?"

"I'm going home soon."

"I don't mind long-distance relationships. It adds some pizazz!"

She slid further into the tub. "Fine- we're steady." _For now_.

* * *

William pushed his glasses up. He surveyed the day's products. One of the customers had complained about the scythe- he had labeled it 56X, a faulty good that he planned to look into later.

His gaze traveled back to Grell, who was busily chatting with a little old woman. William did another round of inspection. He looked at Grell again.

"What you staring at, bossman?"

Ronald was beside him, one arm leaning against William's shoulder. "Don't touch me!" the latter snapped. "Right, sorry!"

William shot him a glare. Ba-dump. Grell hadn't changed at all- he was still in a proper suit and dressing shoes. Ba-dump. The flowers hadn't affected him at all? Ba-dump.

"Sutcliffe, come to my office!" he shouted, a bit sudden.

That caught Grell by surprise. "Ronald, take care of this charming madame, would you?" He kissed the old woman's hand, eliciting a giggle. "I'll be right back."

William didn't bother waiting for Grell to catch up. He went into the office first and threw himself in his chair. Grell came in calmly, arms crossed and acting too masculine for comfort. "Yeah?"

"Has anything unusual happened to you this week, Grell?"

"Well... Madame Red and I are together now. Aww, you care- that's so adorable, William."

"Anything else?"

"Well, no..."

"Anything to do with flowers?"

"Flo- oh, I did get some the other day. Red roses- how did you know?"

Ba-dump. William died. Or he would have if he had the power to kill himself without moving. Honestly, it was not in his nature to make stupid mistakes like this. And here he was, jumping into a rut that got deeper by the second.

"How did you feel about the roses?"

"They're in a vase. There are lots of girls who fancy me now. It was probably one of my many secret admirers," Grell replied, grinning.

"That's all? That's all you feel?"

"Yep, I really need to go back now William. That okay with you?"

Ba-dump. He was getting irrational. "Do you know how much they cost!" "Uh..." "Do you know how much effort was put into getting them to your door!" "Uh..."

"Just go, Sutcliffe! Get back to work!"

Grell left the office hastily, leaving William behind. He stood before the desk, out of breath and gripping the edge so tightly his knuckles turned white.

* * *

"If it isn't the lady in red!" Lau exclaimed, escorting Madame Red to a table by the window.

"Your noodles weren't so bad."

One of the waiters said something to him. Lau replied in the same language. They laughed. "What's so funny, Mr. Lau?"

"I told him you were the one that slept at my home."

She stared at him, horrified. He laughed again. "On the couch, of course. I wouldn't want to share my bed with a stranger, not that I have anything against strangers. I think strangers make the world go-"

"Lau, shut up and get me a drink."

"Drink is very vague."

"Get me some alcohol. Brandy, beer, it doesn't matter."

"It does matter! They all cost different prices."

"Then get me water."

He shouted something at the waiter. Madame Red felt her phone vibrate. She slid it shut- it was likely just Grell asking her a dumb question. Lau was still standing by her table. "It's coming. Why like red so much?"

"That's none of your business."

"In China, red means luck. Is that why?"

"No." She softened. "Far from it."

The water arrived. "You look sad."

She frowned. "Why are you still here? This isn't your problem, alright. I didn't come here for therapy."

He looked at her, clearly confused. "But I don't like seeing unhappy customers, unless I find it funny, like my neighbor's boyfriend- oh, that was funny- but I don't find you being funny."

Madame Red had to stifle a laugh. "What, now you're happy? I really don't understand you, Madame."

"Then clearly your English isn't good enough."

"Ha ha, that was a bad joke." He shook his head, as if in thought. "I know! I'll get you some tea. Tea always makes me feel better."

He was about to leave. She grabbed his sleeve. "Lau, wait."

"Yes?" "Could you make it... extra warm?" "But it might burn you." "Please?" He smiled. "No problem."

She let him go. Maybe she should have been more courteous- a number of things could have happened to her that night. She supposed she was lucky she had run into someone like Lau, someone this "awkward" and clueless.

She bit her lip. If the tea was good, she might consider coming back.

* * *

**Sutcliffe, I was hoping we could catch a movie together**- The hell? William deleted the message. Like hell he would write that. He began texting again. **Grell, I apologize**- No, that sounded odd. **Grell, would you care for coffee?**

That sounded a little better. He fought back the shame. Fingers clicked. **I have to explain something to you. Don't get the wrong idea.**

He sent the message. _Honestly_. There had to be a better method. Ba-dump. He refused to believe Ronald's words. But what if-

He leaned back in the swiveling chair, massaging his temple. What if he did feel something for Sutcliffe? No, impossible.

* * *

9 A.M on a Sunday. William was anxious. He was still fumbling over the words in his head- hopefully he could get through breakfast without trying to strangle Grell. He pushed his glasses up and opened the door, keys still jangling in his free hand.

There was a girl standing in front of him, eyes wide and confused. _Now what?_

"Can I help you?"

She pursed her lips. He tapped his foot. Her features were clearly Asian and by the looks of her, she seemed to be a tourist (or so he hoped).

He stepped out and locked the door behind him. "I guess not. There's nothing fun to do here. If you're lost, call the police."

"..."

He pocketed the keys and walked away, not bothering to spare a glance. The sooner he got this over with, the better.

* * *

Grell scanned the tables for William. A boy's day out, just what he needed. He saw the dark head and waved. William waved back, rather unenthusiastically. This was the closest thing he ever had to a date with William.

Where he was the one being asked instead of the other way around. It filled him with closet glee- but he wouldn't think of that now, not anymore. They were just co-workers, friends even, out for a cup of coffee. A part of him hoped William sent the roses, as confusing as that would be, and another part hoped it had been some Spears cousin instead. As long as it was a female.

"Will, give me a sec, would you? I need to get my-"

"My treat." William pointed at two cups of coffee on the table. "Cappuccino, your favorite."

"You shouldn't have." He took the seat opposite William and began blowing at the cover. Neither spoke.

"I-"

Grell stopped. "Yes?"

William coughed. "The roses. I sent them- as... a token of friendship. Things must be tough on you, lately, Grell." He looked away.

So it had been William. Grell wanted to grin, but found himself unable to. There were a lot of things he wanted to say then, but did he really want to go back to the way he was? It was a token of friendship, an awkward token because William was William. And that would never change.

If he tried to find a deeper meaning, Grell was sure all he'd be doing was grasp at straws. So instead he said, "thanks, William. I'll pay you back someday."

"Tch."

"Someday after work, let's head over to the bar together." He nudged William in the ribs. "I have some copies of playboy lying around," he whispered.

Maybe that wasn't the right thing to say because William practically choked on his coffee. And kept choking.

"Will!" Grell leapt from his chair and pulled William up, wrapping his arms tightly around the man's stomach. _Heimlich? Hemlock? What- the maneuver!_

He pressed and the coffe sputtered from William's mouth. "Ah- you- _idiot_!"

Grell let go, breathing a sigh of relief. "I thought we'd have to call 911!"

"You idiot!" William hissed, rubbing his throat. He gave several hacking coughs. "You don't do that for liquid!"

Grell pouted. "Well, you're welcome for saving your life, Will!"

He noticed the gazes of several customers on them. William was either glaring or staring at him wide-eyed, wider than he'd ever seen the man's eyes before. William kept a hand moving over his ribs and winced.

"You know what, Sutcliffe, forget it- just forget it."

"Will-"

"I have work to do." Keeping his face to the side, William left the table, staggering a bit and leaving at a pace quicker than usual. Grell sank back into his chair with a frown. _Temperamental jerk_.

He clutched his head; since when had he ever cared how William treated him? If anything, he should care less now, not more. Something caught his eye in William's empty chair. It was a package wrapped in bright red velvet.

**To: Grell**. Just Grell.

Odd. Temporarily forgetting his rage, Grell reached over and grabbed the apparent gift. He undid the ribbon and pulled the velvet away. It was a transparent box, an expensive one, with two bottles of Chanel perfume.

* * *

William practically stomped up the stairs. When would the humiliation end? What had he been thinking? He fumbled in his coat- great, he left the perfume behind. Hopefully, Grell wouldn't notice. _Idiot. I'm the idiot here. Just forget the damn thing!_

He stopped. That girl was still there, leaning against his door, eyes downcast and tired.

"How long have you been here?" he asked. Anything to not think about Sutcliffe. Playboy magazine- he mentally snorted.

The head of black hair moved. She stared at him calmly, a hint of shyness in those large eyes. "Mor-ning," she said, barely above a whisper.

"Get out of the way. That's my home."

She blinked, struggling to understand. "Home?"

William's frown deepened. "Yes. Please remove yourself from my property." She stared at him blankly.

_For the love of-_ "Can you speak English?"

She hesitated. "Not good."

There it was. That accent. It was a lot heavier than Lau's. Good- then he would just wait for Lau to come home and maker her his problem. William approached the door and she instinctively left it.

"You should go soon. Before it gets dark." He took out the keys, feeling a strong urge to commit suicide.

* * *

"Lady Red!"

The voice was familiar. Madame Red shut her laptop (along with several emails from the hospital director) and looked up. Lau was waving at her from behind a pile of books. She waved back.

"It must be fate!" He came towards her, the books dangling carelessly by his side. They had all dropped by the next second and he was on the ground, scurrying to pick them up. "My bad!"

"Lau, this is a bookstore- be quiet," she said, raising a brow at the book titles. Horror novels- Stephen King, Lovecraft, Poe.

"And it's Madame Red."

He sat down next to her on the cushioned bench. "I thought libraries were for whispers. Stores are public property."

"Just lower your voice. Some people are working here."

"But isn't it rude to work? It's only nice to buy something from here."

"Uh..."

"You're taking the store's resources but not giving back in return. That's not a very fair trade."

She frowned. Was he lecturing her? "So you're buying all these books?"

"No."

He really was awkward. "Then are you buying anything?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Why buy when I can read for free?" Chippy laughter.

"What the hell?" she said. "You give me that little speech and now you're a complete hypocrite."

"What speech?"

This conversation was done. "Whatever- okay, it was nice talking to you, Lau. I'm going to go find some magazines."

"So was I!"

She put the laptop back in its case and picked it up. "Do whatever you want." Madame Red left the bench and headed toward a shelf of books. And another. And another. Lau seemed to be following.

"Are you lost?"

She squared her shoulders. "No. Are you?"

He laughed. "No, of course not. You seem lost. The magazines are at the front. I thought you might need help."

He juggled the pile of novels and raised one elbow slightly. "I can take you there."

"I'm not taking your arm in this position. The books will fall." Seriously, was he this dense?

Lau's face remained blank. Then his brows furrowed and the man grinned. "Oh! You're right- just follow me."

She sighed and walked with him, side by side through the maze of books until they reached the magazine section. She picked one off the "hot" stack and stared at the cover.

_Retired Actor Disguised as Undertaker!_ was the headline. By it were two photos of a silver-haired man, a gorgeous man. His face was familiar- he had been quite the idol decades ago. Her sister had been one of his groupies during her teen years. Madame Red smiled; their father had been furious.

Lau's head appeared over her shoulder. "Hey! It's that guy!"

She flipped to the cover story. Lau kept commenting. "I think he'd make a nice gardener or maybe a model. Didn't he model? Eh, he dated her? Ah, I thought they never broke up! He's a necrophile! Oh, no, that's just a rumor..."

"He never quite appealed to me," she muttered.

"Oh, why not?"

"Not my type, I suppose. How about you?"

"I don't know. I don't like men, not that I have anything against men that do. I mean, I support gay rights. I'm just not gay."

She chuckled. Had it been Grell, the conversation would have been quite different. Maybe she would buy the magazine after all. Besides, Maylene could use a funny read here and there. No doubt this story would be on the news for the rest of the week.

* * *

Grell held the bottles of perfume, tranfering them from hand to hand. Why would William give him these? He had already thrown all his perfume away. He placed the new bottles by the cologne and ran a hand through his hair- nothing made any sense.

It wasn't like he could go out and demand an answer from William. The man was as stoic as a rock. Predictable, boring, bland. Then why did he have to go ahead and start behaving like... this.

Damn Will.

Maybe he should see Angelina again. At least with her, he was safe. He was himself. As real as he had ever been. _Liar_.

* * *

"Aren't you going to answer that?" Lau asked, between sips of tea.

He had been pressured by the lady in red to buy something- ironic, really. So there they were, in the book store's only cafe, the only two customers. Which was odd, according to Madame Red. The college students must not have come that day. He didn't really know how to answer; after all, he never really paid any attention to the rest of the world.

Her phone had been vibrating non-stop on the table. She shook her head.

"My boyfriend- he's persisitant."

"Oh."

He took another sip through the bendy straw. Speaking of bendy straws, his restaurant was missing a couple; he blamed the waiter- that cheapskate. The tea was actually quite... bad. Really bad. And it was a flavor he couldn't pronounce.

"How about you, Lau?" she said with a wry smile, "are you married?"

"No."

Her eyes seemed to light up at that. _A gossip hound_. "Any women in your life?"

"There was a girl." His eyes opened slightly. "Yes, a girl. She's a little shorter than you."

Madame Red didn't seem intent on dropping the subject. "Chinese?"

"Yeah. She wasn't like me- her eyes were big, really big." Forgetting himself for a moment, he touched a wisp of her hair. She stiffened. "She wasn't like you either- her favorite color was blue."

Her hair was short like Madame Red's. Come to think of it, Madame Red was a striking woman- he had thought so since the first night they met. Sad, beautiful, typical, and yet so untouchable. It had been a long time since he thought so about a woman.

"Who are you, Madame?" he asked.

"What kind of stupid question is that?"

"Surely your name isn't 'Madame'?"

She gave his straw a quick flick. "Angelina. Just Angelina."

He was about to say something before she cut him off with a low grunt. "I'm late, Lau. Time passed faster than I thought- I can't have my nephew lecture me again. Can't stand precocious kids."

"Wai-"

Gathering her belongings, Madame Red stood up, and prepared to leave.

"But-"

"Bye, I'll come by for tea some time," she called over her shoulder, blowing him a mischevious kiss. He watched her back leave, heel clicks fading into the distance. What had he wanted to tell her?

Lau's eyes fell on the expensive phone. _Right_. "You forgot your phone... Angelina."

From what he had observed of her (because he did observe people... once in a while), she likely acted that way around everyone. But for the moment he was alone. A smile fell on his mouth as he tried to relive the blown kiss.

* * *

William was sure he was sufficiently sober. The last can of beer stayed in his hand, warping reality as his vision blurred. He burped. He hated it when people burped, but there wasn't anyone around to see him. And if they did, they could go to hell. Maybe he should have just bought nicotine patches. It had been a long time since he felt the urge to smoke. He didn't smoke anymore.

He snorted. What did it matter? It wasn't like he had that much to live for. Their gardening business wasn't world-changing. He didn't have any kids to care for or a wife for that matter. His parents were long gone and the closest things he had to friends were the idiots at work.

The world was filled with idiots. Including himself.

"Did you like the flowers, Grell?" he asked bitterly, "would you like a love letter? Love letter! Honestly, you ask for too much, Sutcliffe!"

He slammed the can on the coffee table and stood up shakily. "What do you want me to do, Grell? Say I miss your 'companionship'?"

His glasses stayed on the table. The perfume had been a stupid move, just like the flowers, and the coffee meeting- no, date. He had been courting the redhead and he knew it. But Grell was different.

He couldn't just treat Grell like some woman off the street or some man from work. Grell was Grell. His Grell. His Grell. The one constant splotch of color in his otherwise dull life. Grell wasn't just some dunce in the world.

He had opened the door for no reason. Grell was a dunce he welcomed. The girl was sitting across the hall. William was asexual- he had known it since the day he stopped dating. Absolutely no one could quicken his pulse, until Sutcliffe. He squinted.

William certainly wasn't straight. Or bi. Or whatever term the idiots kept sticking on the different.

"Come in," he told her sluggishly. It was obvious that she had nowhere to go by that point- just like him. They must have been kindred spirits; that, or the alcohol was ruining his brain. Slowly, she stood up and looked down the hall.

William turned his back on her and went back in. He heard the girl's footsteps quicken behind him. Click. She must have closed the door.

"Sit down," he ordered, clumsily searching for his glasses.

His vision cleared (or cleared as much as it could in his state) the next second. She had placed the spectacles on his face. He washed out all other thoughts with her face- her calm, fragile face.

"What's your name?" he mumbled.

"Ranmao."

* * *

Grell avoided William at work, occupying himself with anyone passing their store instead. The feeling seemed to be mutual. In fact, William hadn't spoken to him for over three days, without so much as a "hello." To be frank, Grell hated the silent treatment.

Because Madame Red seemed to giving it to him as well. She hadn't gone out with him for over a day. A whole day! She even had the audacity to tell him not to be so clingy. _The old Grell was never this clingy_. That's what she told him.

What the hell was that supposed to mean? He was the new and improved Grell. So far, he didn't feel new and improved, though.

"Excuse me, you wouldn't happen to sell spades, would you?" a young man asked.

"Huh?"

"Sir, do you sell spades?" he asked again.

_My- he looks like a younger William_. The spiky, mussed hair and cold piercing eyes- that was how his be- ex-best friend had looked in high school. He couldn't believe he still remembered. "Sir?"

"Pardon. You just look like someone I know."

"Do you sell them or not?"

"Just put on some glasses and..."

The man rolled his eyes. "I'm on a tight schedule, Mr... Sutcliff."

_Not my problem!_ Grell produced his signature grin. "Spades, spades, come with me."

He led the man to an aisle and gestured at the various sizes. "Do you have one big enough to kill a man?"

The question was delivered with absolute seriousness, not that Grell cared in particular. He pointed at the highest one. "This one is prime murdering material."

"I'll take it."

"Just one second there, kid. You're not planning on murder are you? We have contracts about these things- you're not allowed to implicate our firm in any way."

The man was about to give a snarky reply when the store erupted with shouts.

"_Freeze_!"

Ronald immediately dropped to the ground, covering his head, as the owner of the voice stepped forward. The orange haired cop kept his gun trained on "William Jr." Edward Abberline; Grell recognized him from the Phantomhive-cargo incident. He also recognized him as the most ineffective officer ever.

"You're under arrest for attempted robbery, so just come on quietly, boy."

"Shouldn't you have back-up?" Grell asked.

"Civilians should stay out of this."

Grell felt something tap the back of his neck, something cold and steely- a spade.

"Take a step closer and the dandy (hey!) gets it!"

Grell snapped at that, "Hey, I introduced you to that thing!" He didn't have time to be held hostage, especially in such a non-romantic way, by a spade no less. A spade.

"One hit and bam!"

"If I pull this trigger, kid-"

"If I slam this thing-"

"Honestly, what is with all this ruckus?"

William stepped out of his office, pushing up his spectacles. He surveyed the scene and sighed.

* * *

Lau fiddled with the buttons on his coat, unsure whether to button them up or not. He had left _Little Peking_ in his staff's charge. Hopefully, they wouldn't mess things up. It was a slow day- open since 9 AM and it was already 3 PM, with a grand total of two customers. Yes, he could afford to take a quick detour.

Angelina's phone was tucked in his coat pocket and locked. He had tried unlocking the functions, not that he had any ill intent. It wasn't like he was planning to sell it on the black market or anything.

Okay. It had crossed his mind. But he didn't want to go through with it because 1) it was illegal and 2) it was _hers_.

"I wonder how to get this to you, Lady Red."

Lau buttoned up the coat, just as the light turned green across from him. Several cars slowed and he began the cross, fingers stuck in the button hole.

* * *

"Bossman, is this a hold-up?" Ronald asked, still face-down on the floor, arms over the back of his head.

William grunted in reply, huddled by the wall with Grell. He rolled his eyes. That delinquent better not harm his goods, and Edward Abberline of all people- honestly, the police had better finish their job.

"This is all your fault, Sutcliffe."

"My fault? He looks like your son, Will."

_He's calling me Will again_. William bit his tongue. Again with those horrible thoughts. "I have no son, Grell. It's coincidence!"

"Denial."

"Do you want to be fired?"

"That's how you're playing it, William? Really?"

"Ronald, would you like a promotion? Mr. Sutcliffe might be taking a break soon." "Sounds good to me, bossman!"

"Okay, yeesh. Sorry, Will. It's all _my_ fault." Grell delivered the last line with a rolling tongue.

"Quiet!" the delinquent barked, now jabbing a scythe in their direction.

"Stop it!" Abberline said, holding up his walkie talkie. "I've got men coming soon, men that'll teach you a lesson, brat." He flicked his moustache.

William wanted to grab the scythe and stab himself with it.

"I gotta go to the men's room," Ronald mumbled.

"Quit whining, Knox." William pushed his glasses up again, calculating the day's potential losses in his head.

* * *

Madame Red poured herself yet another glass of tea. Would it kill her nephew to have just a little more alcohol in his home? It probably would, but that was beside the point. Besides, Sebastian would never approve.

With a complete lack of grace, she fell on the couch, legs raised, and bra exposed for all to see. Ciel was at school. Sebastian and the servants were out shopping for groceries because they had apparently depleted their supply in a flamethrower accident. Idiots.

Tanaka was doing something with the Middleford family. She forgot what- _the party_.

With a swish, she poured the glass down her throat. The family party. The one she invited Grell to. He hadn't called all day. _What a relief_.

The distinct sound of the doorbell echoed through the halls. She ignored it.

It rang again. And again. And again. And again. And again.

"Shit."

* * *

Grell sang to himself, not bothering to remember the lyrics to his song. "_Top of the world with you_-" William Jr. was still arguing with Abberline and the sound of alarms was blaring in his ears. He didn't know the department store even had alarms.

It was getting late. He had a date that night. Madame Red promised to show up in that lovely scarlet coat. William coughed. A fake cough.

"Listen, Sutcliffe, I just wanted to say that..."

"_Top of the world with you_-" "Quit it." "..." "I just wanted to say that... that..."

William fidgeted, eyes darting from the floor to the ceiling, landing on anything but Grell. _Is he blushing?_

"I- I really do..."

With a groan, William shifted closer, shoulder sticking against Grell's. Ba-dump. He had never been this close to William before, at least not the other way around. It used to be a dream come true. But now...

But now-

But now-

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. _Damn you Will. I never changed at all, did I?_

"I really do... you."

The doors burst open, a team of loud, stomping, shouting cops jumping in. William Jr. was pinned down, hands behind his back.

"Who's the 'slowpoke' now, Jack?" Abberline taunted, "I caught you! Just like I said I would! Randall, what do think we should do with him?"

The other officer tapped the man with his foot, ignoring many unflattering comments from the latter. "Take him in. Jack the Ripper, ha! Quite a cocky title you gave yourself, kid."

Grell turned back to William, who was already crawling away from the wall and checking the condition of the scythes and spades.

"Will, what'd you say?" he asked quietly, clearly.

"Nothing," was the mumbled reply.

"I don't have to pee anymore," Ronald informed them.

Grell bared his teeth. "You clean it up! I can't stand that filth! I can't stand it!" He couldn't stand any of it, especially William.

* * *

Lau waved at her, right hand sticking in front of his chest, tangled in a mess of buttons. Madame Red crossed her arms, making sure to keep them above her own jacket- she probably looked like a slob anyway.

"How did you get here?" she shot, arching a brow.

"Ha ha, that's an interesting story." _Oh, great, now he has a story_. "You see, I went to many shops asking about a woman in red. There was one man, the bartender, um, Druitt's Bar, that's right, or something like that... he knew who you were-"

"You look a bit shabby for someone Druitt's would admit."

"Well, they tried to kick me out, but I'm very persuasive." He smirked. "I was once a gangster ("Okay..."). Do you want to know-"

"No."

"Okay. Your loss. So then he told me you were a regular there. And that you were a relative of the Phantomhives. I didn't know who they were so I looked up the name in a directory-"

"I get it, you can stop."

"..."

"..."

_Is he kidding me?_ Then again, it was Lau. "Mind telling me what the hell you're doing here?"

"You left this at the bookstore." His body wriggled, hands retreating into the coat, and digging at some unseen force. "Ah, here it is."

Lau held up a familiar black rectangle. Her phone. "These are very expensive, Angelina."

Her brows knit together. He came all the way here for that? "I guess I should say thank you... for not stealing it."

"I would never!" _Liar._

Madame Red unfolded her arms, placed her hands on her hips, and approached him, waist swishing and a foxy gleam in her eyes. She might as well have a bit of fun- it was her last night anyway.

"Would you like to come in, Lau?"

* * *

William splashed more water on his face before turning down the faucet. He let out a breath. Then another. _Honestly, you idiot._

The tools had been confiscated. Figures. He opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed the first bottle of pills. His head was pounding again- and to think, he had almost said that to Sutcliffe- he unscrewed it- what the hell was wrong with him?- and popped in a tablet.

It must have been the adrenaline. He slammed the cabinet shut and stared at himself from its mirror: wet and matted hair, bags under his eyes, bare chest heaving with each breath. He was a mess, a pathetic mess.

He tucked the ends of the towel even further along his waist and exited the bathroom, the smell of chicken noodle soup filling his nostrils. Frowning, William retrieved his glasses from the bedside table and headed toward the kitchen.

"Ranmao, you're still here."

She gave him a quick look before nodding. The girl- no, woman- was sitting at the table in an overly large sweater, two chairs pulled up, and looking a bit too comfortable for a stranger. She had prepared two bowls of soup.

"Is that my sweater?"

"Yes."

Blunt. Rolling his eyes, William placed himself in the opposite seat. "You shouldn't dig through other people's things. It's rude. Honestly, I thought you would have better manners."

"Sorry."

"Listen, you can't stay here forever. It's not within my jurisdiction, whatever it is you're planning-"

"You're lonely."

Everything stopped. The clock ticked, the steam blew at his face, engines roared from the outside.

* * *

Grell stuffed the rose petals in his mouth before spitting them back out, coughing and hacking all the while. That was a bad idea. He checked his watch: Madame Red was an hour late. An hour and fifteen minutes.

_What the hell!_ He adjusted his bowtie and scowled. The candle burned before him. He glanced at the other couples in the restaurant chatting and kissing and generally being very annoying. His fist slammed on the table.

"Hey! Can I get some service over here!"

He didn't survive a hold-up just to be stood up. The waiter was a clumsy teen, freckled and fresh faced, but all Grell wanted to do was punch him.

"Yes sir! Would you like some more water? Wine?"

Grell physically snapped at him with his teeth, the waiter recoiling from shock. "Sir...?"

"Mcdonald- ("It's Mcmillan")- whatever. Did a woman come in here tonight?"

"Could you be more specific?"

Grell bared his teeth again. Mcmillan backed away slightly. "Red hair. Red coat. Hot as hell." He tossed the menu at the waiter, the youth struggling to catch it. "Find her."

"Sir, I'm not sure how-"

"_I said find her_!"

"Right away sir!"

* * *

"Oh shit."

"Come again?"

"Nothing." Madame Red reclined on the lounge chair, waving off the thought. Lau sat beside her, holding a glass of half empty orange juice.

"I just forgot the time."

"Time... oh... oh shit."

"You too?"

He smiled. "I abandoned the restaurant." Madame Red sighed, head falling on his shoulder, inciting a noticeable tremble.

"I'm sure they can manage without you."

The Phantomhive pool shimmered before them, bits of the obscure moon swirling inside. "You make an interesting... talker, Angelina."

"Better than you. You know, I was hoping we'd do something crazier tonight, instead of sitting around talking about colors and birds-"

"And tea."

She stood up and motioned for him to follow. "Let's walk around the pool. It's a nice thing to-"

Splash. Lau's head bobbed in the water, the man making incoherent gurgles. She jumped in after him, the water freezing against her skin. Madame Red yelped before surfacing.

"And I'm not even drunk!" she laughed.

"Angelina, let's make a-" he was under again- "bet!" He surfaced. She swam around him, clothes drenched and heavy, arms outstretched.

"The terms?" She placed her hands on his shoulders.

"If I surprise you, you have to..."

"Have to what?"

Lau's eyes opened, narrow and mischevious. She yelped as he put his arms around her and pulled them both underwater. They surfaced again, Madame Red sputtering and coughing. She kicked him.

"Ow!"

"And your damn terms?" Another kick. "Ow!"

He pulled her against him again. "I want a date."

* * *

Grell put on his jacket and all but knocked the chair over to the horror of several customers and the restaurant's staff. That stupid waiter obviously wasn't coming back. He wasn't going to tip the brat.

He yanked the wine bottle off the table and went for the door, some men trying to block his way, something about signing the bill. Without a word, he signed it and shoved it at the closest waiter's chest.

"Get my card back!"

Grell watched the waiter scamper off and bit his lip. He took out his phone one more time and ran his fingers over the screen, searching for the number.

She didn't pick up.

* * *

"Ronald, I think she's cheating on me."

The young man looked up from his clipboard. Grell seemed to be talking to him, but the the other man's gaze was clearly staring into space.

"Your girl?"

"But why? What am I doing wrong?" Now he was muttering to himself.

"Hey, boss, uh-"

"Ronald, what's wrong with me!" Grell shook his head. "No, what's wrong with her? Can't she see perfection when it's in her face!"

"Right..."

"Why doesn't she answer my calls? There's someone else... I can smell it!"

"Okay..."

"Oh, I'll find out alright." "You do that, boss."

* * *

William unfolded the newspaper and turned on the television with no intention of actually watching anything. Ranmao was beside him, sitting cross-legged on his couch, something that had become a habit for both of them.

He didn't know where she came from, why she was there, or why she wouldn't leave. She seemed to see him as the charity case, rather than the other way around. Regardless, it had gone on long enough.

"I really don't think you should be here."

"..."

"Ranmao, you're wasting my electricity, water, resources, things that need to be paid for."

"..."

Was she pretending she didn't understand or just outright ignoring him? William set the paper down and grabbed her shoulders.

"You need to either start paying rent or go somewhere else. I appreciate the meals you've cooked, I'll give you credit for that. I appreciated the company, but honestly, you're acting like a freeloader-"

Her calm eyes where unfazed.

"You're... you're..."

His grip softened. "... beautiful." _Sutcliffe, I really do- Grell- Sutcliffe, I really do. Honestly, you idiot. You're lonely._

"Beauty and I, we don't go hand in hand. I can't hold onto anything."

He released her and put his hands on his lap. William turned aside. "Not even the dunce that I- that I... honestly, paperwork, bills, money, work, that's all I have... you're all I have now and I tried to turn you out. I really have nothing... in the end."

Grell was never his. It was the other way around, wasn't it? Had it always been that way?

"No."

It came from her, a soft crisp statement. Her hand was gripping his, warm and soft.

"I was looking for him," she said quietly. "I... scared, like you."

William placed his other hand over hers.

* * *

Madame Red rapidly deleted the rest of Grell's texts. It was getting creepy. ("Where were you?" "I'm watching you" "I know everything!" "You're messing with the wrong guy, dear" "I know when you sleep!")

She sighed. _Fine, I do owe him an explanation_. But what was she supposed to say? That she had fallen for the owner of Little Peking? The restaurant was closing and she could hear Lau shouting orders from the kitchen.

_You're a two-timer_. Her chin rested on her palm. _You know what mother called these kinds of girls?_

"I get it," she grumbled.

It had been too long since a relationship. She had almost forgotten about the complexities of courtship. Come to think of it, she had never been the center of attention in the first place. Her sister had been the one with all the suitors, with him. Rachel.

She missed them both.

What would Rachel say to her now? _Follow your heart, sister_. Yes, probably something cheesy like that._ Rachel, what if I said the choice was between a transvestite and an ex-gangster? You really know how to pick them, Angelina._

The last few patrons filed out, a pair of young pretty things and an old couple pushing and prodding one another. As much as she liked to lead men on, this wasn't right. For any of them, including herself.

Lau mentioned another girl once. Lau, Grell, herself. They were all lying to themselves. And she was the only one who knew.

* * *

Grell tapped his fingers on the counter, waiting for yet another shot. Madame Red was usually at Druitt's Bar during the night. Something wasn't right. The bartender, Redmond or something like that, was flirting with a woman next to him.

Grell narrowed his eyes: she wasn't even as attractive as himself. He was twice as pretty as any woman there.

"Hey kid," he called, "do you remember my friend? A woman all in red?"

Redmond turned his dreamy (scratch that) eyes toward him. "Oh? You mean Madame Red?" _Yes, my girlfriend!_

"Has she been here lately?"

"She hasn't dropped by for a while."

"Do you know where she went?"

"Not really. Maybe she went to that Chinese place a few blocks down. It's run by some weirdo... so maybe not."

Any lead was better than no lead. Redmond handed Grell his drink and the latter snatched it. Whatever Madame Red was hiding from him, he'd find out tonight.

* * *

"I was going to kill myself."

Lau put his hands behind his head. What did that have to do with him? Madame Red smiled, sad and soft, eyes meeting him slightly.

"That's why I came to visit my nephew... to say goodbye."

He put his arms on the table. Seeing as no one else was left in the restaurant, he assumed those words were meant for him only. In which case he should-

"Pay attention."

She didn't touch her tea. The steam wasn't even blowing anymore.

"Then I met Grell, who by the way you're encouraging me to cheat on." He laughed at that.

"It worked out, didn't it?"

"Ha, no."

"No?"

"No. Then there was you... I like you a lot Lau. Maybe that's why I'm telling you this. I don't know. There was a man who I loved. He didn't love me back. There was another man who loved me... we should have been happy... they're all gone now."

She gulped and looked down, bangs covering her eyes. She was usually so confident- it was unsettling. He leaned in closer. Her voice was getting a bit hard to hear, almost as small as _hers_.

"Killing oneself isn't the way to go," he said.

"I know that now..."

Her eyes widened. Their lips pressed together.

* * *

Grell tore himself from the window, heart beating at a horrifically fast pace. He was right. He was... RIGHT. She was cheating on him! He saw it. He just saw it. That man, he knew that man, when he and William had gone to the restaurant.

"Lau," he spat. "Lau!"

The nerve of that man, kissing her, just kissing her, like, like- like THAT! Oh, they were missing with the wrong woman- wo- MAN, messing with the wrong man!

Screaming to himself, Grell ran away, stomping on the ground with each step. He was going to get himself a drink, then he was going to relax, then dump Madame Red, then- _kill Lau_, damn it!

"I'll kill you!"

* * *

William knew what to do now. Honestly, why had it taken him so long? Ranmao was right. Why did he even need her to tell him? Because he was an idiot. He pulled her to his chest and pressed her head against his shoulder.

"I don't say this to anyone unless absolutely needed... thank you."

He let her go. She seemed to feel the change in atmosphere. William stood up, strolled over to the counter, reached for his wallet, and pulled out several folded bills. Without hesitation, he put them in Ranmao's hand.

"Here, take these. Go find that person."

She stared in shock as he put on his coat. "I'm going to find my dunce. I suggest you find yours too. We're ready now."

He held out his hand. "I'm not the most chivalrous of men, but I do know when to act. If not, I would have been fired long ago."

She placed her palm in his. The door opened and they stepped out.

* * *

_I'm relaxed_. Grell saw the world as a blur of dots and spots. He didn't have too many drinks- twenty shots was not too many! He stumbled forward, eyes tearing up, razor teeth baring.

There was a chainsaw by the wall. Did some gardener leave it? It was red. He loved red. Madame Red. He was going to rip Lau's guts out.

He nearly tripped over- he _did_ trip over a fire hydrant. Sprawled, Grell watched the city grow, spin, and spiral around him, a whirlwind of colors, lights, and sounds. He picked himself up, hair undone and flying in the wind.

It was a hardware store. He passed by and grabbed the chainsaw. The clerk was yelling at him ("You have to pay for that!").

He imagined Lau's body ripping apart, torn in the wind, head coming off- Madame Red's sassy smile- she'd be sorry. She'd be sorry! He was a man. What did it matter? No, it didn't!

_Little Peking_ flashed in front of him.

* * *

They sat in each other's arms. Madame Red sighed. Now _that_ had been a kiss.

"You're tensing, Angelina."

"This isn't going to work out."

"What?"

She pulled away and cupped his face. "You know 'what'."

"No, I don't."

"Tea comes in lots of flavors. If you can't find one, you use another. But I don't buy that. I'm not the right one for you, Lau. And you aren't for me."

His face fell. "I felt differently."

She pecked his mouth. "I have to go."

* * *

William rubbed his eyes. The bartender at Druitt's had told him Grell (who he had described as the queer redhead pretending to be straight) went to Little Peking. He really didn't know why.

He adjusted his glasses. He wasn't seeing things. Grell was waving a _chainsaw_ in the middle of the street, screaming about spilling Lau's blood, and heading straight for the restaurant.

"Honestly."

He bet the chainsaw wasn't even their product. It didn't matter though- he'd chastise Grell another time. For now, he had to calm the man.

"Grell!"

The redhead didn't turn around. William ran up to him and grabbed his shoulder.

"Leggo of me!"

"You're drunk."

"Leggo, you bastard! Leggo!"

"I can smell the alcohol on you."

"Leggo!" Grell elbowed his ribs. William forced his arms around Grell's waist, the buzz of the chainsaw dangerously close to his ear.

"It's me, William! Will, you idiot! Now stop making a scene!"

"Nooooo!"

Groaning, William dragged him toward the restaurant. Maybe a cup of ice cold water would settle Grell's nerves. If not, he would be attending Lau's funeral with a crappy apology.

* * *

Madame Red was about to push the door open. The sooner she got away from Lau's disappointed face, the better.

"Angelina."

Sighing, she turned her head back.

"I didn't know you were so wise."

"Come again?"

"You always struck me as the opposite type, ha ha."

"Lau!"

"I did enjoy your company. It was very pleasant."

She smiled, the rage calming. That was when the a blur of red bursted into the restaurant, a kicking, screaming mess.

"_Grell_!" she yelped. He was shouting and flailing at another man, a chainsaw between them. "Grell, what the hell?"

"William, what brings you here?" Lau greeted, apparently immune to the weirdness.

The man named William wrestled Grell away from the pair and kicked over a few chairs in the process. "Ice! Lots of it, now!"

Lau didn't move. _For crying out loud_. Madame Red grabbed his arm and headed for the kitchen. Behind them, the whir of the saw came to a stop.

* * *

Grell was moaning on the table, cheeks flushed red, and hands still reaching for the chainsaw. William had his hands on Grell's shoulders, the chainsaw several safe feet away from the redhead.

"And you are?" Madame Red asked.

"William T. Spears, Sutcliffe's manager... of sorts."

Lau splashed another cup of water on Grell's face. "I'll kill you!" was the response he got.

"He seems to think you're double-crossing him," William said, removing Grell's glasses. He doubted anyone could stand wet lenses.

"He's a maniac."

"Yes."

"It's over between us, you know. For good."

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. "I didn't know." Ba-dump.

* * *

Lau pocketed the restaurant keys and watched Angelina take her leave. He considered calling her one more time. No, it was over. William was carrying the drunkyard away in the opposite direction, much in the same way he had carried Angelina that first night.

There was a sneeze.

He turned toward the sound. Standing below the streetlight was a small figure. He wasn't dreaming, was he?

"Ranmao?"

She took a step closer. "Ranmao."

* * *

Grell woke up, bleary-eyed and sore in odd places. _What happened?_ His head ached like hell. The ceiling swirled as he tumbled off the couch, taking the blanket with him. He reached for a lock of crimson hair.

Great. Frazzles and split ends. "Damn it all!" he moaned.

"Get off the floor, Grell."

That voice. Grell rolled on his side and looked up- this was his home- the flamboyant furniture gave him a hint. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. That was a bad idea. Now he just wanted to vomit.

"You really shouldn't leave your keys below your mat."

"William... what are you doing here?"

"Someone had to take you home. You were a lunatic last night, Grell. Company policy says I should fire you now."

William bent down and lifted him up. Grell stood shakily, hanging onto the man's arm for balance.

"I look horrible, Will."

"You do."

Grell pouted, too worn to throw a tantrum. "I don't mind."

What did William just say? Grell looked at him intently, not sure if he heard right.

"I don't care if you're a man, a woman, or whatever else you want to be. I never did care."

Ba-dump. "Honestly, Grell, you could be an alligator for all I care."

And it was as if he was looking at William T. Spears for the very first time and the very last time. The weekends spent together, the hours at work, school, everything clicked. The flowers, the coffee, the perfume.

"I love you, Grell Sutcliffe." Deadpan and completely without emotion.

"William..." Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

Grell threw his arms around William's neck. And to William's protesting, their mouths were soon smashing together. "Your breath, Grell!" "Aww, don't be like that, Will!"

The doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," William said, dragging Grell with him as he reached for the knob. He pulled the door open.

Madame Red stood before them in a scarlet coat. She then broke into a peal of chortles.

"Manager!" she laughed, "manager, oh, I see now!"

William coughed forcefully.

"Madame Red, what are you doing here? It's over!" Grell took several wobbly steps toward her.

"I came to give you this." She shrugged off the coat and held it towards him. "You were an amazing lover, Grell. Just a crazy one."

The coat. He had completely forgotten about it. "You promised to come to that party, remember? It's tonight."

Grell took the coat and felt its texture- it was his now, all his. "Can he come?" He gestured at William.

"I don't-"

"Of course. Both of you are coming."

"Honestly, I don't-"

"Well, ta ta!" She blew them a kiss and hopped down the front steps. William sighed as Grell leaned on his shoulder, casting him an aside glance.

"Will, you don't have to come if you don't want to."

"I'm coming." Without another word, William tilted Grell's chin upwards and met his lips. It was not a romantic kiss. It was not a quick kiss. It was an honest kiss, an honest fantastic kiss.

* * *

Madame Red sat in front of the great glass window, watching the city lights from above. She could hear her nephew run around with her niece-in-law ("Ciel, come back, it's your birthday!" "Lizzie, I'm tired!") and the sounds of the remaining adults. She should be joining them soon, but for the time being, she would relax.

There was giggling from the kitchen, no doubt from the hired chefs- Lau and his staff. She had a feeling that girl he brought was the cause of all the cheer. Ranmao was her name. A mysterious one, that girl.

William Spears had threatened to leave as soon as he found out it was a Phantomhive party and Grell had agreed upon finding out it was a child's birthday celebration. _They must have stayed for the free food_. She chuckled.

The pair had disappeared into the bathroom a few hours ago. There was a distinct banging sound from the hallway but she didn't bother dwelling on it. Whatever mess they create would be Sebastian's problem.

"More champagne, Madame Red?" _Speak of the devil_.

"You startled me, Sebastian."

"My apologies."

The butler stood beside her, balancing a tray of champagne glasses on his arm. She almost expected him to start drinking it himself.

"I'm sorry things didn't work out between Mr. Sutcliffe and Mr. Lau."

She eyed him. "I didn't know you were the gossipy type."

He set the tray on the round table between her and the other chair. Casually, Sebastian picked up her glass and replaced it with a new one. "I hope you forgive me for saying so, Madame Red, but I'm glad that it didn't work out with them."

Ba-dump.

"There's a little time before they run out of drinks." She gestured at the opposite chair. "Join me for a bit."

He smiled and bowed. "My pleasure."

Quietly, Sebastian took the seat. Madame Red picked up her new glass and held it between them. "Cheers, Sebastian."

"I shouldn't touch Phantomhive-"

"I said cheers."

He picked up a glass for himself and clinked it with hers. "Cheers."

* * *

**The end! Boy, that was long. Thanks for getting through it and please review! Merry Christmas! Looks like I'm back on fanfic track after a long hiatus.**


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